


Blurry

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-18
Updated: 2005-03-18
Packaged: 2019-05-30 09:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15093692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: After the State of the Union, CJ and Sam realize it's time to stop hiding their relationship.





	Blurry

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Blurry**

**by:** Kansas J. Miller

**Character(s):** Sam, CJ  
**Pairing(s):** CJ/Sam  
**Category(s):** Romance, Post Episode  
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Disclaimer:**  
**Summary:** After the State of the Union, CJ and Sam realize it's time to stop hiding their relationship.  
**Spoiler:** _100,000 Airplanes_  


  
He walked in the door late, much later than he should have. Her car was in the driveway - would she be in his bed? Or maybe in the living room...somewhere. As he locked the door softly, Sam heard the hushed murmur of the television, and yes - it was coming from his room. 

He walked down the narrow hall slowly, shedding his tie and blazer as he approached the room. It was dark, and the blue light was playing shadows across his white bedspread; she was lying on top of it, and again Sam wondered angrily why she had left without him. 

It was nearing four and as Sam tiptoed into the room, he realized that CJ was asleep. The remote was in her loose hand, as though she'd been furiously channel surfing until boredom had taken her to sleep. 

Sam stopped and put his hands on his hips affectionately as he watched CJ. Her face was relaxed, glowing with the moving light of the screen, beautiful. She had on his bathrobe, and the small pile of clothes on the floor told Sam that it was _all_ CJ had on. Still, she'd left the party without him, not even saying good night - and Sam couldn't shake the feeling that she was upset with him.   


Drumming his fingers on his chin, Sam decided to undress. He'd be quiet and sleep next to CJ, and maybe in the morning he'd find out that it had been nothing at all. 

As he was unbuttoning his oxford and slipping out of his dress pants, the familiar velvet voice wafted towards his ears. 

"Keep going, Sammy..." she said throatily. Sam spun around, comfortable in boxers and an undershirt, face to face with the wry grin. Chucking his dress clothes into the pile of CJ's own clothes, Sam leaned against the bed. 

"Why'd you leave?" he asked seriously. CJ sat up and ran her long fingers through her hair. She took her time in muting the television before folding her legs under body and facing Sam. 

"Why'd you tell Lisa we were together?" CJ countered, her tone's sweetness reflecting the level of annoyance she felt. Sam's eyes widened in surprise as he climbed onto the bed, clearing his throat confusedly. 

"CJ, I didn't tell her," Sam defended, knowing it was the honest truth. CJ was skeptical, but tired. She sighed heavily and her reply was less forceful than Sam knew it could be. 

"Yeah? Well, she came to me again and told me that a new Vanity Fair reporter would be in touch about the profile," CJ said, her eyes lazily perusing Sam's face. "And then she said she hoped I was happy with you." 

Sam covered CJ's hand with his own. "I absolutely did not tell her, CJ. I haven't told anyone." 

"Then how did she know?" CJ's tone rose as her eyes widened. Sam shook his head vehemently. 

"I don't...CJ, I don't know. Maybe it's obvious." 

CJ leaned back against the pillows, defeated by Sam's dejected tone. "What are we doing?" 

Sam slid his arm behind CJ's waist, enabling him to pull her towards him, against his chest. "We need to stop being so scared. We need tell people, CJ." 

CJ settled her head down on Sam's shoulder, holding tight to his body. "Yeah?" she responded skeptically. 

Sam inhaled the scent of CJ's shampoo, feeling torn. They'd been seeing each other very quietly since right before Thanksgiving and had been planning to tell their friends when the turbulence of the hearings calmed down. The time had not presented itself.  
"It's not wrong, CJ. There is nothing wrong with the way we feel about each other," Sam said almost forcefully as he raked his fingers gently through her hair. 

A recent sexual harassment suit between a semi-senior member of the Communications staff and one of the lower level assistants had caused a flare up of public debate. After the suit had been dropped, and amongst much good-natured joking, Leo had insisted on enforcing the long-standing policy against intra-office dating. 

CJ and Sam had been slightly spooked, and they'd tried to back away from their relationship. They kept their work professional, but outside of the West Wing, it was near impossible for Sam to keep his mind off of CJ.   


"Sam..." CJ murmured, feeling herself dozing off under the feeling of Sam's fingers in her hair. 

"Shh, go to sleep. Just go to sleep," he whispered, knowing now was not the time to talk about this. 

Sam continued to run his fingers through CJ's hair until he knew she was fast asleep. He wondered for the millionth time, as he watched an info-merical playing on the television, what would happen if they came out with their affair. 

But it was more than an affair, Sam thought. His feelings for CJ had quickly grown deeper after they'd fallen into bed together; it was much more than sex. Still, there were things to worry about - the least of which was if they were violating the loose dating policy. 

They worried about their reputation, about the opinion of their friends and co-workers - the President - and about how it would affect their jobs. CJ was the face of the administration: she was out front every day, susceptible to the press chatter. And it didn't help to ward off gossip, in Sam's mind, that CJ was seven years his senior. 

There was nothing to be ashamed of, Sam knew - and there was no need to convince CJ of that fact. Still, Sam thought that CJ cared way too much for what people would think. Looking for the right time was always the source of an argument, and so Sam shied away from bringing it up with CJ. Tomorrow, he thought, as his fingers returned to her hair.

He awoke with a start, and the night before came rushing back. There would be celebration at work today, whenever the senior staff decided to amble in, and the President would be energized. The Iowa Caucus was coming up, then New Hampshire. They had to move, and things had begun to line up last night. But Sam didn't care about all of that. Nothing felt right, nothing felt energized inside of his body, in his mind. It was muddled, tangled, and he was taking everything so personally. CJ in his arms made his mind blurry, blurry like fog. 

Four State of the Union addresses, Sam thought, and how he could feel so low afterward this one was beyond his understanding. It was but five minutes of euphoria for every hour of failure. 

He suddenly wanted to get away from CJ, and it was the worst feeling that had ever flashed into him. The lump formed in his throat immediately, and instead of pushing her away, Sam wrapped his arms tightly around CJ's back and hugged her hard. 

"You afraid I'll leave?" she murmured into his neck, having been awake herself for quite some time. Sam snorted softly. 

"More like afraid that _I'll_ leave." 

CJ pulled her head up at this and looked at Sam's eyes. They were shy with sleep, and something else. She studied him quickly, watching the emotions as they coursed over Sam's expression. 

She knew he was still reeling over the speech; Lisa had upset him, and obviously her leaving the party without him hadn't helped. CJ leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Sam's nose. "You're free to go at any time," she responded cheerfully with the understanding of his mood. She smiled and began to move off of the bed. 

Sam reached out and stopped CJ by the upper arms. "You know I didn't mean that," he said with childish eyes. CJ smiled softly, putting her hands on Sam's arm. She rubbed them gently, slowly over the fine hairs. 

"I know. And I care about you. So if you want to tell people, I'm fine with it," CJ said, picking up the exact thread of their conversation from the night before. Sam was caught off guard, but as he processed her words, some of the heaviness lifted away. He smiled. 

"Yeah?" 

CJ cocked her head, grinning at his sudden cheeriness. "I'm not saying we should send out a memo, but we don't need to creep around... I mean, if Lisa could figure it out..." 

"Someone else will," Sam finished, grinning as he squeezed CJ's arms. With a knowing nod, she slid off of the bed and headed towards Sam's bathroom; the scent of her perfume and shampoo lingered around Sam and he inhaled it contentedly. 

  
On the way to work, Sam had stopped at a small florist in the District. He'd sent two dozen white roses, which on some stroke of luck were delivered while everyone had been in her office for the PR strategy meeting. She'd read the card under the watchful eyes of Josh and Toby, Larry and Ed, Carol and Donna, and some others; Sam didn't know what he expected her to say, but he certainly wasn't expecting her to lock eyes with him and melt on the spot.  


Other than a very strange glance from Toby, a friendly but surprised grin from Josh, and the general whirl of chatter that accompanied the assistants, there had been little said directly to Sam and CJ. It should have bothered Sam, as silences held hidden opinions, but the way her mouth had curved upwards at the flowers was intoxicating, breathless; CJ was the only one in the room. 

  
He was falling in love with her when he found a lone rose lying on his desk. She left no note, just the flower, as a single explanation of both everything and nothing. It was beautiful, she was beautiful, and she agreed with him now; everyone did not matter. Only the space between their hearts did, and it was no longer blurry. 


End file.
